


Everything's Okay At Walden Pond

by sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, First Dates, M/M, Mirelurks Add To The Mood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 22:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21260315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/pseuds/sunspot
Summary: This is not remotely the what, where, when, or how Nate would want in a first date, but he can't argue with the who.





	Everything's Okay At Walden Pond

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Irusu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irusu/gifts).

There's finally enough of a break in the radstorm to venture out of Sanctuary, It's been almost a week cooped up with nowhere to go save hurrying between the buildings and trying not to incite Marcy's yelling again, and now they can go wherever they want.

And Danse picks Walden Pond.

"Really?" Nate says, trying to hide his disappointment.

Danse sighs. "Fine, you pick somewhere.

Nate backpedals a bit. Danse is forthcoming and speaks his mind when they're patrolling the Commonwealth, or in a fight, but when asked for his input on something low-stakes and casual, he never has a preference. Nate wants to reward an actual answer.

"No, no, Walden it is. I said you decide. Let's head out."

They don't leave Sanctuary right away, of course, because they still need arms, ammo, snacks, a medkit, and to have a long argument about whether this is a power armor affair or not.

"We're not even going far; just a walk to stretch our legs. Don't you want to enjoy some of the great outdoors?"

"Not particularly," Danse says. Which Nate needs to agree is fair, considering how shitty the outdoors have become in the last two-hundred odd years.

Only a touch more cajoling and Danse agrees. He tugs on a wool overcoat and a dirty ball cap instead of the full suit of T-60 he'd prefer. So they're both making little sacrifices today. It's actually pretty sweet.

They head southwest, and despite the familiar greys, the washed out browns, and the dingy blues, Nate thinks the Commonwealth looks prettier than he's seen in ages. It's probably not Could be the cabin fever from hiding from the storm, could be because Nate's last few trips away have been to the godawful Glowing Sea, or it could have something to do with Danse's hand finding his and hanging on.

Nate notices quickly that Walden Pond is nicer than he remembers it from before the War. No tourists out this way anymore, no noise from nearby traffic… Even the breeze whipping up now and then and the creaking trees being sad and skeletal just adds to the feeling of a crisp autumn day.

They're circling the water when Nate catches Danse glancing sideways at him. "What?"

"No, nothing."

It wouldn't be the first time Nate's weaponized his charm to get someone else to spill their secrets, but the world feels oddly at peace right now and he doesn't want to provoke anything.

There's solid ground on the south side of the pond, somewhere to stand and look out over the murky water. It's not the most breathtaking view Nate's ever had the opportunity to take in, but it's something.

"This was a good idea," Danse says. He doesn't declare it, like he does when he's giving orders in the field. There's a whole other tone to his voice, genuine and soft on the edges. Danse kind of sounds tentative, like he isn't so sure about what he's saying when it's not Brotherhood rhetoric or a barked command. Nate's heard this side of him, spending as much time as they have together, and every time he has, it makes his heart hurt a little.

"Like a date," he adds, and it's still so careful and tentative. Nate bites the inside of his cheek to stop an audible _'awww,'_ from escaping.

"Honey," Nate says, and the pet name slips out before he can stop it. _Awww_ might have been more acceptable. But then Danse _blushes,_ and Nate doesn't stand a chance.

"I can take you on better dates," Nate finishes, because he's in it now.

"Oh," Danse says. It's less a word and more a sound, but that's okay. It's great even. Nate will take 'oh' any day, especially when Danse is still blushing and there's a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

A mirelurk bursting out of the muck ten feet to their left is significantly less welcome than Danse's little smile.

Nate draws his gun on reflex, but Danse is faster and has already blown one of the things legs off before Nate even fires a shot. His response time and unshakeable calm always leaves Nate a bit shocked, a bit awed, a bit impressed, and a medium amount of terrified.

Four more mirelurks and a swarm of their awful, grimy babies appear from the pond, summoned by the screeching from the first one. There's a rumble and a crackle not so far off, like a storm's rolling in. Not sure if it'll be thunder and lightning or more of that godawful radstorm. Nate can usually tell by the prickle on his skin, but the frenetic pace of the fight makes it impossible to tell. 

So much for a single afternoon of relaxation. So much for a date. At least this will make it easier to wow Danse with the next one (provided Nate even earns a next one, at the rate this is going).

When Nate blasts the last mirelurk in it's gooey underbody and it keels over, he heaves a sigh of relief and turns to Danse automatically. Always check on your buddy when the fight's over -- that's standard protocol.

Danse is smiling at him, but not the shy half-smile from before, the one that melts Nate's heart and fits right in with _'honey'_ and _'date.'_ It's a full, beaming smile.

Nate needs to lie down. He's far too old and in way too weird a place in life to have a crush.

"You've got mirelurk in your hair," Danse tells him.

Embarrassed more than grossed out at this point (it's the Commonwealth, who hasn't had someone or something else's viscera in their hair?), Nate rakes his fingers through his hair.

"No, it's still there. Here, let me."

Nate tries not to fidget when Danse steps in close and brushes light fingers across his hair. He grazes Nate's ear and maybe there's a shudder Nate can't hold back. Danse might notice, or maybe he didn't, but he is blushing again.

Danse's hands are warmer than they have any right to be and though older than dirt and very well-worn, his coat is soft and it doesn't smell like fermented Deathclaw piss. It's too nice, having him so close. Nate has to be sarcastic to break the tension. "Terrible date idea," he teases.

"Not so bad," Danse says, a far cry from the unimpressed soldier routine he'd pulled back at Sanctuary. "The views weren't bad." He smiles -- smirks -- and their eyes meet for a second too long. Danse doesn't step back.

"Oh," Nate says, and there's nothing wrong with that response, he thinks. Oh is okay.

They kiss, and who knows who kissed who first, and honestly that's okay. It's great, even.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! I'm posting on mobile because my laptop cannibalized itself in the spirit of the season. Apologies for formatting wonkiness.


End file.
